Were you journeying on urgent business you would not rest contented if told that you had entered the wrong vehicle, and that instead of advancing towards the place you desired to reach you were being carried in a direction that would lead far from that destination. The discovery of such a mistake would lead to immediate steps for its rectification. There would be promptness in your action and earnestness in your And why should it be otherwise in regard to your spiritual destination? why, when everything conspires to tell you that you are under a mistake in regard to the prospects of your soul-that have committed your soul to a wrong direction to a way that leads far off from happiness and God -why should you be satisfied under a mistake which must end in the utter ruin of your soul? manner. you ex Beloved reader, we would beseech you, therefore, to " amine yourself, whether you are in the faith," 2 Cor. xiii. 5. Let the word of God be "a lamp unto your feet and a light unto your path," Psa. cxix. 105; for by that light alone will you be able to discern the direction you are taking-and at the same time to discover the way in which you ought to go. Traveller to eternity! for a moment pause-reflect-and decide. Pause in the hurry and engagements of life; snatch a few short moments in which to weigh your eternal state. Reflect on what you are, whither you are tending, and how you ought to act. Decide that to whatever point your steps have led before, now they shall, by the grace of God, tend to God, to heaven, to eternal life, through Jesus Christ. J. F. SHAW, BOOKSELLER, SOUTHAMPTON ROW, LONDON; AND W. INNES, BOOKSELLER, SOUTH HANOVER STREET, EDINBURGH. J. & W. Rider, Printers, Bartholomew Close, London. TRUE HEROISM. It was on a languid summer evening, I was sitting alone, bending over a familiar volume, but my thoughts wandering uncontrolled over the mountains of fancy, running hither and thither, and resting nowhere, when suddenly my eye was arrested on the page before me by the solemn and spirit-stirring words of good old George Herbert "For all may have, If they dare choose-a glorious life or grave." My thoughts immediately came home from their roamings; my heart was roused from its languor; the past and the future stood before me in bold and striking colours; impressions fell upon my heart of which I would fain preserve the clearness and the vividness; and I now record them that they may serve to anímate and cheer the heart of any whose eye may chance to wander over these pages. Do we not remember all our passionate veneration, in the days of our childhood, for the great and the famed of our race? for the poets, and the warriors, and the heroic men, and the noble women of old? Oh how proudly our hearts throbbed with the mothers and the sons of Sparta! How breathlessly we followed an Alexander, a Cæsar! how we gloried over a Wallace, a Bruce, and a Tell! how our eyes flashed fire with a Joan of Arc, or melted into a softer light with a Rachel Russel! How we panted to do and to dare, with them, and like thein, some generous deed of chivalry or patriotism! Now all that has passed away: we have each since then, perchance, had our little silver threads of romance mingled with the homespun warp and woof of every day life: but these, too, are forgotten. We are not now so young as we have been; and we have gradually come to take a more sober view of this world of ours, in which our pieces of romance might be very much out of place, if not quite impracticable. But though the spirit of romance no longer kindles in our bosom, the spirit of high and honourable enterprise, consistent with this more sober view of our position and circumstances, ought still to have its abode within us. To such a state of mind there seems, then, an appeal made in this suggestion of a good and sensible man, in language plain, though quaint, that "all may have, if they dare choose, a glorious life or grave." "All," it is to be observed; not only the hero of the sea, or of the land, or the upholder of a monarchy, or the founder of a republic, or the poet, or the man of wealth, rank, or talent-but “all," and "all" may "choose." It is a matter of choice. You and I then are among the number of those who may live and die gloriously! What does it mean? Are the ancient chivalric times to come back again? Are we to wear the helmet, and grasp the sword? Must we sweep the lyre-strings, and invoke the tuneful muse? Or is there some mysterious way of living 66 a glorious life" beside the peaceful fireside, and finding glorious grave" beneath a lonely and unlettered stone? 66 a Let us look arouna, and see whether any amongst us seem to be living gloriously. Do you see yonder helpless invalid, who has long been chained down to the couch of languishing? Every day she suffers as much pain as martyrs have done in their martyrdoms; and she endures with a quiet and unseen heroism; for it is the will of Him who is the beloved of her soul. She is young, and sees the world and its bright hopes smiling on every side, though not for her; and still she does not murmur. Daily brighter and daily surer grows her testimony to the beauty and the reality of that second life which has arisen within her soul; and more and more earnest is she in leading others to seek that peace which she has sought, and found, and feels to be all she needs. The holy angels think this feeble sufferer's life a "glorious" one, whatever men may think of it! Do you see that pale, calm, benignant looking man, whose heart seems to beam out with his kindly smile upon all around him? That man is a soldier, though he does not look like one; and he bears a sword in his right hand, though you cannot see it he is a soldier of the Cross. He took up the profession early in life, and for many years he has battled on against the sins, and the corruptions, and the plagues of his own heart; never laying down his weapon, or ungirding his armour-for he knows that very soon he will victoriously "quit the sword, and take up the crown;" and that then he shall "be holy, as God is holy:" and holiness, not rest, is the prize for which he fights. Angels think this a "glorious life" to live, whatever men may think of it. Now let us come back to old memories, and let us see whether any who went away from us in early life are now resting in a "glorious grave." Do you remember that fair and youthful form, whom everybody used to love? How lovely, and loving, and beloved she was, when we knew her first! She entered on the scenes of domestic life, and her eyes beamed with a still sweeter light, and her happy spirit diffused a radiance around her home. But when we saw her last, the rounded cheek was pale and thin, and the flash of the blue eye was quenched, save now and then, when it flickered with a feverish light; for consumption had set its seal upon her brow, and she was to die. She went forth from her kindred, and in the hope of recovery sought a distant island of the sea; but her heavenly Father had willed otherwise, and she died there. But strong, very strong, was the grace of God within her young heart, and trustingly were her eyes fixed upon the home whither she was going, and the friends whom she was THE ENGLISH MONTHLY TRACT SOCIETY, 27, RED LION SQUARE. |